


highway

by tanyart



Series: tread lightly [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8600653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: Prompt: things you said on the highway





	

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the repost! 
> 
> Originally posted on my tumblr writeblog, @[aubabbu](http://aubabbu.tumblr.com/).

“Usually when you want to catch a ride, you stick your thumb out,” McCree says as he rolls down the window. Smoke billows out from the van’s roomy interior.  A couple of cigarettes have already been crushed into the dashboard’s ashtray, the only evidence of a mildly stressed man living a highly stressed life. **  
**

Genji stares at him, impassive on the outside and a little less so behind his faceplate.  Not that McCree would know for sure, but Genji has been working on finding ways to express himself without yelling or snapping.  There are mixed results.  He tries to give McCree the middle finger.

“You look like shit,” McCree adds sweetly, to the sound of Genji’s right arm falling off and about a dozen shuriken clattering to the pavement.

There’s not a lot of worthwhile responses to that.  Genji musters up what dignity he has left and bends down to pick the limb up.  The shuriken he can leave behind for some puzzled hitchhiker to find. “I thought you were picking me up on a motorcycle.”

“Functionality over fashion this time around, I’m afraid,” McCree says, unlocking the doors.  “And beggars can’t be choosers, unless you want to walk back to base.”

Genji looks down the van, pursing his lips.  It’s nondescript and boringly grey.  The license plate isn’t even customized.  “I’m tempted to.”

It’s all empty bluster, but it feels good to throw the quips.  Genji climbs into the van and allows himself a silent sigh of relief.  There are no back seats, which is just as well.  He hauls the sliding door closed and braces himself with the handle as McCree floors it. The van lurches, and Genji’s left arm strains trying to hold on.

Once their speeding levels out, Genji lays down on the rough carpeted floor, watching the highway scenery blur.  Blue sky and grassy rolling hills.  A soft beep interrupts his dazed idling; McCree had enough foresight to drag along a service bot.  It gets to work on his broken arms, rhythmic electrical buzzing playing over the rumbling engine. Genji shifts to give it a better angle and powers down his optic enhancers.  Maintenance is becoming routine, as habitual as washing hands or brushing teeth. He can almost get used to this.

“I take it the mission didn’t go as planned?” McCree asks.  Genji can see his eyes in the rearview mirror before his gaze dips back down to focus on the road.

Genji thumps his head against the floor of the van, though he isn’t sure it’s out of exhaustion or irritation.  “That’s confidential.”

“That bad, huh?”

Genji waves his free hand.  “My objective is secured,” he assures, not wanting McCree to mistake circumstances for total failure.  He catches McCree looking at him through the rearview mirror again.  His next words slip out before he can stop himself.  “…It wasn’t all bad.”

McCree falls silent, conversation coming to an abrupt stop.  Genji’s jaw tightens, frustration worming it’s way into his chest when he replays it in his mind.  He doesn’t mean to sound aloof, but he forgets McCree can’t see his smile and his vocal emitter makes him sound flat instead of wry.  

It’s tiring, always having to think of ways to translate his facial expressions through other means.  More difficult than learning English, and twice as exasperating.  But something in him wants to try again.

Genji allows the service bot finish reattaching the right arm.  His diagnostic scans confirm the placement and he bends the joints, fingers to shoulder.  He waves away the bot, stopping it’s work.  “Thank you. For picking me up.”

“Sure thing,” McCree says.  “I happened to be in the area.”

Genji sit up, grabbing on to the driver seat’s backrest to pull himself to his feet.  The backrest leans minimally under his weight but it catches McCree’s attention.  “Being two hundred kilometers away is a very generous range to be around.”

McCree turns his head, looking from Genji’s face to Genji’s hand by his shoulder.  The van’s autopilot light blinks on for a moment.  He smiles, putting two fingers to his temple in a casual salute.  “Consider it a thank you present for helping us out in New York last week.”

Genji climbs over into the passenger’s side, slipping into the chair with ease.  After a moment, he slumps in the seat, lifting his legs to rest his feet on the dashboard.  He looks at McCree.  “A thank you from Blackwatch, or a thank you from yourself?”

McCree pauses.  He seems taken aback by the question.  A sidelong glance from him tells Genji he’s choosing his words carefully.  “From me, personally. You don’t see the rest of Blackwatch here, right?”

Genji grins.  He wishes McCree could see it.

“No, I don’t,” he says, and settles in for the long drive back to base.


End file.
